Catastrophe Theory
by kotokodainetohru
Summary: Five years have passed since the Hundred first set foot on the Earth. It is now up to Bellamy and Clarke to ensure that their descendants will be around in another five hundred. Written after the events of 2x05, but set five years later. Rated M for scenes in later chapters, and language.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: To my readers: I know I should be working on my _Itazura na Kiss _story right now, but this just popped into my head and once it was there, I couldn't get it out! I was inspired to write this from a mixture of things. First of all, I am a huge fan of the Marriage Law trope often found in the Harry Potter fanverse. I was rereading a couple of my favourites of those, and then I read a _100_ fanfiction and was thinking how great a Bellamy/Clarke Marriage Law fic would be, but I couldn't figure out how I'd make it work, and then somehow my boyfriend and I got into the discussion of the Toba Catastrophe theory (seriously, really interesting shit. Wikipedia is your friend. Go knowledge yourself wiki/Toba_catastrophe_theory) and _tada,_ story idea complete. Well, sorta. **

**Anyway, this will be another undertaking of mine that will probably take me ages to finish, but I will do my best to do so! Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Catastrophe Theory <strong>

**Chapter 1**

"The rampant orgies need to stop, Clarke."

Clarke heard Bellamy sigh beside her, and suppressed the urge to giggle. This was a conversation both of them had had to endure countless times.

"We've been _over_ this! One of the main problems people had with the governance back on the Arc was the strict population controls. No children out of wedlock and no families with more than one child meant no extramarital sex, and often no sex at all! I know it was not an issue for any of you, but many of the inhabitants were no able to afford the birth control available to people back on the Arc, and if they didn't want to be floated, they had no options. Now that there aren't limited resources, and the fear of running out of oxygen, people are not going to agree to this."

Clarke looked to Bellamy for some kind of back-up but, as usual, he saw his part of being a Senator (an old term Bellamy remembered from a book he'd read to Octavia back on the Arc, and one they'd adopted when they'd abolished the term Chancellor) was a part that didn't involve actual speaking in front of the Representatives.

Abby spoke again, no more ready to back away from her demands than earlier. "This isn't about controlling people, Clarke, or going back to the old ways. This is a health issue, a _future_ health issue. We're not asking people to give up sex at all, just sex with multiple partners. _Two _children were born this month that could have been the child of four different men. And last month, it was three children that were in that situation."

Clarke felt her face heating up, as her voice did the same. "Mother, what do you want us to do? Why is this so damn important? Weren't you people the ones that told everyone we needed to repopulate the earth?"

Abby began shouting as well. "I didn't expect everyone to take that as leave to jump into every second person's bed!"

Clarke stood up to retort, but felt Bellamy's hand on her shoulder, firmly pushing her back into her chair. She took a deep breath and smiled gratefully over at him. They both knew from past experiences that getting angry in one of these meetings did no good, and that once Clarke began referring to her mother as such, things were going to get ugly unless brought back to task.

Dr. Griffin looked over at the other six Representatives. They had discussed this pitch before coming to the Senators about it.

"Think about it, guys. Thirty-seven children have been born in the five years we've been on Earth. Only thirteen of those children can say they know who both their parents are. That means there are _twenty-four _kids that in fifteen years will be afraid that every person they sleep with could be their half-brother or sister."

Bellamy spoke up for the first time. "From the history books, not knowing one parent was a common occurrence before the Nuclear War."

The doctor sighed, having known he would bring that point up. "Yes, we understand that. But in that world, there were 9 billion people. That means that the chances of running into an unknown half-sibling were so slim, there was no point in even being worried about it. We have just under 500 people living within our borders. If we don't include the inevitability of mixing genes with the Grounders, we are already going to have people reproducing with second and third cousins in a hundred years or so. If we can at least have a record, so people can know what they're getting into beforehand, our descendants will thank us, I promise you."

Clarke caught Bellamy's eye, and they had a very quick silent conversation, complete with subtle gestures, as they often did in these dratted meetings.

_You know she's right, Bellamy!_

_We promised them there would be no laws or penalties for sex or anything to do with it! No matter what!_

_I know, but this could be potentially dangerous. _

_You heard her, Princess, "a hundred years or so". Not our problem. _

Clarke rolled her eyes, because she knew exactly what he was thinking. He always said things like, "We'll be dead by then, let them worry about it" or "Why do you care? That won't be an issue for at least ten years". Honestly, it was part of what made them such a good team. Clarke was more often than not concerned with the long term welfare of her people and would sacrifice short-term comforts, while Bellamy would ensure that she didn't forget _too _much about what was needed for the day-to-day.

"You didn't answer my question, Dr. Griffin. What exactly do you want us to do about it?"

This time it was Representative Kane that spoke. "Rules. Punishment. Make it illegal to have sex without marriage."

Clarke's hand flew to Bellamy's knee, and she dug her nails in, reminding him not to fly over the table and punch the cocky son-of-a-bitch in the mouth.

"Representative Kane, we've already stated that that is out of the question. There will not be, nor will there ever be, any kind of regulations on sex or child bearing while I am Senator." Bellamy's voice was steel. They'd said it countless times, but maybe this would finally convince the Representatives that this was non-negotiable.

Clarke, with her hand moved to Bellamy's, pulled him to his feet. "Thank you for your thoughts, and we will take this into consideration. We understand the need, and why you wish it to be so, but you must understand our position on this as well. We will meet on this matter again in one week's time. Bellamy and I will try and think of a solution, as should you."

An obvious dismissal, the seven Representatives, all members of the Arc's old circle of power, quickly left the cabin that had become known as the White House, another throwback to old Earthen culture.

The White House was not white, but it was a house, as well as a meeting area for the Senators to meet with the members of their community. This was not just for the Representatives (whose group name was actually Representatives of the People, but that was more of a formality, as more often than not, the people felt more "represented" by Bellamy and Clarke, than by the older group), but also for emissaries from Grounder tribes, the odd Mountain Man and even if a member of their little town wanted a formal audience with his or her Senators (though that rarely ever happened, as both Bellamy and Clarke much preferred to have a discussion with one of their people in informal situations).

Originally, the White House had just been the meeting room, built as a large place for the community to gather for weddings or parties. It was one of the first buildings that had been erected once they'd moved a little further away from Mount Weather and closer to the ocean. Bellamy and Clarke hadn't been Senators at that time, in fact, Clarke's mother had still been Chancellor. The policy for living quarters was ten to a cabin, and Clarke had been in with Octavia, her husband Lincoln, a few of the other original Hundred, and Bellamy.

But then the group had mutinied, incredibly unhappy with the Chancellor and cronies way of governing. It was too much of the same strict rules leftover from the Arc and with no room for new growth on the Earth's surface. So, they had been ousted, and through an extremely high consensus, Clarke and Bellamy had been reinstated as In Charge. The name Senator for their new position had been suggested by Octavia, ever the romantic.

However, their then current living situation hadn't been working out. They would often find themselves up all night, whispering, trying to keep from bothering their cabin-mates in vain. And once they realized that they truly were failing at that, they moved to outside the cabin, but then their conversations were in open, and it got pretty damn cold at night. What they needed was their own private area to discuss and lead.

It had been Jasper's idea to build a couple extra rooms onto the White House. Most of the cabins around the town had two to three rooms, one with chairs and a table for eating and general socializing. The other rooms were all for sleeping, with a minimum of five bedrolls to a bedroom. With a little creativity, Jasper and his crew built on a small dining room, and two miniature bedrooms onto the White House, exclusively for their Senators, and any future ones elected.

Clarke had disagreed vehemently at first ("What will people think?") but once it became apparent that the majority of the town, excluding the always crotchety Representatives of course, thought it an excellent idea, there was no more that could be said. Within the month, she and Bellamy had moved their meager stores of things into the White House, and quickly became the gossip fodder of the year.

That died down quite quickly as well, though, when the Senators public fights, genial working relationship, and frankly, obvious interest in other members of the community became general knowledge. Bellamy and Clarke might make excellent leaders, but only a miracle, or a curse, would bring them together romantically.

They didn't know, but their curse, or miracle, was upon them.

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><p>Clarke flopped herself into one of the chairs in their small dining area, and began massaging her temples. How did her mother always manage to give her pounding headaches? She didn't flinch when she felt Bellamy's hands gently replace her own. She just sighed gratefully, closed her eyes and let him comfort her. When he moved to the back of her neck, and her shoulders, she said, "Why does she always have to try and fix the things we don't want fucking fixed?"<p>

"Dunno."

"I mean, she must know that this isn't something we'll easily back down on. Your sister lived in the freaking floor for sixteen years, for Christ's sake! They were ousted for trying to cling to laws just like those, and now they want us to reinstate them?"

"Ridiculous."

"It's not like they don't have a point, which is the most frustrating. I _hate_ it when she's right. People are incredibly too happy to just jump into every other fucking bed and we have no birth control, or anything like a paternity test. It could cause some really serious issues down the road, the least of which is siblings having sex! There could be deformed children, and development of sexually transmitted diseases, and any other manner of terrible things!"

"Dreadful."

Clarke tipped her head back to glare at her partner standing behind her. "Are you listening to me at all, or are you just interjecting words you think might go along with what I'm saying?"

"Not fair at all." Bellamy laughed and pushed her back into her seat when she stood up indignantly. "Chill out, Princess, of course I'm listening. I just don't know what I should say. You know how I feel about it. We've been talking about it since, Jesus, since before we lived here. We always say, "Oh yeah, something really needs to be done about all the people having all the sex" but then we say, "No laws, no regulations, no nothing" and then we go out and have all the sex ourselves. Maybe we haven't knocked anyone up or been knocked up ourselves, but we sure as hell haven't been abstinent."

The entire time they been talking, Bellamy had continued on working out the kinks in Clarke's shoulders. She didn't handle stress well, poor thing. He had to do this for her nearly every night, not that he minded.

She reached for his hand, and pulled him around to sit in the chair opposite her. She didn't say anything, but Bellamy knew she was grateful for the massage.

"What are we gonna do, Bell? We've got to do something."

He sighed. They _did_ need to do something. It wasn't a case of fatherless children running around, unloved and uncared for. Enough of that had happened on the ship and that shit wouldn't happen in _his_ town. On Earth, people cared for each other, whether it was Raven with her bum leg, or Mrs. Taylor, who still had conversations with her dead husband, or a baby with no home. People gave a shit on Earth, or he'd know why.

In a crowd against laws and regulations on sex and not allowing babies to be born and all that, he'd be the loudest voice. This was an issue that not only did he grow up around, it was something he knew was wrong. Not allowing people to have children when they wanted them, or have sex when they wanted, it was all wrong.

But even not taking all the science crap Clarke and Dr. Griffan had brought up, Bellamy knew what was happening was also wrong. Children should know where they came from. He didn't have a father, had never had a father, and that was wrong. His mother should have held his father accountable, for both himself and Octavia. And these twenty-four babies would only ever have doubt about who sired them, and that wasn't fair to them, or to the people that would end up taking care of them.

And, honestly, he actually hadn't been all that sexually active lately. He'd talked it up a bit when talking with Clarke (because who wouldn't), but it had been at least six months since he'd been with anyone, and he was pretty sure Clarke was the same. Now was as good as time as any to start bringing in some kind of regulation. Maybe they could be like, role models or something.

And then it hit him, what they should do. He leapt to his feet, excited, but deflated at another thought.

Clarke starred at her partner, her friend. "What… I don't even know what I should be asking here…"

He shot her a nasty look, but there was no heart in it. "I had a thought, but I realized it wouldn't work."

"Well why don't you share, and then we can both decide it won't work."

"Do you remember in history class, did the teachers ever tell you how rations used to be just food? And how they started being traded for other crap on the Arc? Like when it was first formed, everyone got the same rations for the same jobs but you couldn't trade them for stuff at the exchange, well, hell, I guess there was no exchange. But then, the Council wanted people to… do something, but I don't remember what it was, and then people were given extra rations if they did whatever it was, and then they more or less made it a currency that people could trade for food and cloth and other shit. I was thinking of something like that, but the same problems would arise that did before."

Clarke sat back and absorbed the info, and Bellamy stood and went over to the little fire pit that was burning in the middle of the room. Marie had, at some point, sent someone over with a pot of food, and had made sure it stayed heated. Bellamy loved Marie. He thought that if she had been thirty years younger, looked less like a pear on steroids, and didn't have the largest man known to existence as a husband, he'd probably want to marry Marie.

He dished up two plates of whatever stew was cooking in the pot, and set one in front of Clarke. He wouldn't disturb her, at least for a little while longer. There was a look on her face.

All of a sudden she popped up out of her chair and grabbed his hand. He barely managed to set down the wooden bowl before shed hauled him to his feet and began swinging him around the room.

"That's it, Bell! You're a fucking genius! Why, we'll bring in a barter system, for superficial things, like stones, or flowers, or, or whatever! And then in a few more months' time, to let people get used to it, we'll start giving out incentives to stay committed to one person."

"What do you mean superficial things? Won't people just start using it to buy things like food or more furs? Commodities, like?"

"Well, we can approve things that can be bartered for. I mean, I'm sure some kind of black market system will pop up for extra food or whatever we decide shouldn't be allowed to be paid for, but hell, there already kind of is, but this way we can control it a bit, while still getting people to stop screwing everything in sight!"

He was starting to get into it and he could see the possibilities. "We could do it on like a two month basis. Someone comes in, swears they've only had sex with one person in the time given, gives a name, and then we cross check it with that person. Obviously people are going to lie, but we can have some kind of… I dunno, penalty for if they're caught lying."

"Ooh, they could be barred from the system for like, a year, unable to collect any kind of reward."

"Yeah! And that way it doesn't have to be the same person every time, but there's a bit more control over children and the like. I mean, we might still have problems with STD's but we'll cross that road when we come to it later!"

Even though they had been exhausted from the day, this plan seemed to give them a new burst of energy. The two Senators stayed up until the first bit of the sun poked it head over the horizon, startling the two at the time. At some point Clarke had unpacked a precious bit of paper and pencil and began writing down some of the things they wanted to bring to the Representatives at the next meeting.

"God, Bellamy, I can't believe we stayed up all night – again." Clarke folded her arms on the table, and laid her head down to rest on them.

"You shouldn't be surprised, Clarke. We literally do this at least once a week. This time was just a bit more fun."

Clarke mumbled something in reply, her eyes slowly drooping.

"Come on, Clarke, let's put you into bed, you silly thing." Bellamy was tired too, completely, but all the same he picked Clarke up. Her arms curled around his neck, locking on to him.

In the last dregs of consciousness, Clarke tried to tell Bellamy that she needed to meet with some of the guard first thing in the morning, but not only could she not get out the words, but she couldn't remember why it was so urgent.

The Senator placed his Co-Senator down into her bed roll, tucked her in, and made sure to grab an extra fur to place over her. It was already spring but it was still chilly, and they really didn't need Clarke catching a cold, and ending up in Dr. Griffin's sick bay. Really, Clarke and her mother in a confined space for a prolonged amount of time was the _last_ thing they needed right now.

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><p><strong>I hope everyone enjoyed it! I hope to have the next bit up as soon as possible! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The story is just flying out of me! This is a pretty long chapter, as well. I've written up a pretty basic outline for the next seven chapters, so hopefully I'll be better about actually updating. I'm pretty terrible, to be honest, so I hope this one is different! **

**I also want to give a huge thanks to those of you that reviewed Chapter 1. Reviews are a HUGE motivator, as most of you know! Hearing that you're enjoying my story, and are excited for me makes me want to sit down and give you more!**

**So, truly, thank you to: **

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel: I'm going to say Clarke is 23 now, and Bellamy is 27, if that fits with the ages we've been given! Thanks for the encouragement!**

**bellarke: I'm so glad you read the wiki page I linked! Check out another link about Hyperinflation in the A/N note at the end. **

**lola: Thanks so much for your encouragement!**

**Zombiedoughnut: I freaking love your username. Jesus, it's brilliant. And thanks for the encouragement**

**lucawindmover: I love detailed reviews the most, and yours is very detailed! Thanks so much for your kind words and I hope you enjoy Chapter 2 just as much as Chapter 1! **

**I'm going to be a few little notes, we'll call them "footnotes", at the end of the story to explain a few things. They won't be things that will make or break your enjoyment of the story, just a few more explanations for those who, like me, need everything to make logical and chronological sense. I'll be adding these to all the chapters that I feel need them. There is honestly no super important need to read them.**

**Either way, enjoy Chapter 2! **

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><p><strong>Catastrophe Theory<strong>

Chapter 2

6 Months Later:

Tomorrow was day they were going to announce the Incentive Plan.

Five months ago, with the help of the Representatives, a few of the members of their little town (which had at some point become to be called Haven), Bellamy and Clarke had devised a currency system. People could not trade food, furs, blankets, basic clothing, housing or guns for "circuits". People would be given four chances to use their new currency properly (no selling or buying of Essentials with circuits); first strike would be a week on latrine duty (which had come to be the punishment for breaking minor laws set up by the two Senator's), then a month, then a year, and if a person was to be found trading essentials as listed for circuits they would be banished for the "foreseeable future".

When Clarke and Bellamy first came to the Senator seats, they agreed that life was too unstable to dish out punishments with the words "forever". So, in the laws they wrote up and gave out to their citizens, all crimes with long lasting punishments with the exception of rape, murder, and child abuse of any kind would be reviewed on the last day of the year after they were given out, and every year after that. This way people showing significant improvement in behavior, remorse or had accomplished something that deserved a pardon would be afforded the opportunity. So far this seemed to be an effect way of doing things.

Circuits could be traded for anything, and everything else. If the occupants of a cabin wanted a window to be cut into their cabin, they could pay the builder in circuits. The builder could then go and take his circuits to the woman who went out to pick wildflowers, and he could give her so many circuits for so many flowers which would then be given to his daughter for her birthday. The flower lady would then take her circuits and buy a better pair of shears from the Collectors so she could better cut and preserve the flowers she collected. And on it went.

Bellamy and Clarke both knew it was not perfect. They knew it would cause many problems down the line, but people needed some kind of money. Being able to afford more of the things you wanted was a powerful motivator, they both found, and even if made them feel a little guilty for going through all this just to manipulate their people into doing what they wanted, they both knew it was for the best, for the present and the future.

After five months, a value seemed to have been added to the circuits and balanced out. A bundle of flowers sold for 2 circuits, which would also buy a bottle of Monty's highly improved moonshine. An extension added to a house would cost a person close to 200 circuits, depending on the size and shape of said extension. New things that people were willing to charge, and pay, circuits for cropped up nearly every day, which meant that even now five months later, Clarke and Bellamy were constantly approved and denying things that could be traded.

At first, the Senators gave every citizen of Haven 20 circuits, and had planned on that being the only circuits in circulation until the incentive scheme went ahead. But then, people stopped doing their jobs that before had been part of maintaining and improving the community in lieu of scavenging for things they could trade for circuits. As this proved incredibly problematic, Bellamy and Clarke, through another all-night session, devised a way around this.

On the Arc, those unable to work, for any reason, were not given rations, and therefore often lost out on food, better housing and other essentials. Neither Clarke nor Bellamy were willing to inflict this kind of life on their people, and therefore began paying people monthly amounts in circuits, based on the hours worked. Everyone, no matter their job, were given 1 circuit per hour of work around the camp, which gave them need to define what "work" was, because many people seemed to think things like "scouting" qualified as work. When the dust had settled a bit from that debacle, it seemed to be more or less successful. Of course, this did not dissuade the most persistent of people who were convinced they could find something worth thousands of circuits if only they searched hard enough, but it did help.

Most of the kinks of the circuit system were worked out now, and the Representatives had called Assembly no less than four times that week to remind their Senators about the original reason the circuits had been brought into play.

So, Bellamy and Clarke scheduled a town meeting, set in the "town square" for the following Tuesday.

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><p>It was now Monday night, and Bellamy and Clarke were sitting in their little common room, sipping at some of Octavia's tea, which they had purchased a bag of for seven circuits. Clarke was feeling smug, more than a little proud of herself, and couldn't hold back the grin.<p>

"What is the face for, Princess?"

Clarke couldn't contain the giggle. "We did it Bell. I mean, we totally devised a currency, and made it work without completely ostracizing our people, or creating an impenetrable class system."

He gave her an odd look. "Miller and his guards picked up someone trying to sell mushrooms the other day for a few circuits."

She sighed, "Was it his first offence?" At Bellamy's quick nod she added, "Well, it was never going to be perfect. People don't change _that_ much, Bellamy."

He smiled as he looked at her and took another sip from his steaming mug. "Are you saying that we haven't changed?"

Startled she looked up at her friend, the man who had become her best friend. "Of course not! If we hadn't changed at all, we would have killed each other years ago! Christ, I hated you back then."

Bellamy let out a surprised laugh, which set Clarke off. They succumbed to their laughter, holding their sides. Clarke fell out of her chair at one point and Bellamy tried to catch her, but instead toppled down on top of her, which only set the two of them off again. They laughed and laughed, unable to hold in their joy at just how well things were going, not only with their partnership but with their town, their people.

Finally, with Bellamy propping himself over Clarke to avoid crushing her, they were able to catch their breath and control themselves. Bellamy smirked down at Clarke, who rolled her eyes. "You know, sugar, I've got you in a pretty compromising situation here. What would you do if someone walked in?"

She shoved him off, not in least bit fazed. She grumbled about stupid hormonal boys, but there was no feeling behind the words. She stretched out on the floor of their common room. It was actually kind of comfortable, and it was just turning to autumn, so it was warm enough to relax here. Clarke felt her eyes slide gently closed, content to just relax after a long day.

Bellamy instinctively knew when Clarke was asleep. He could've chalked it up to the change in her breathing, or the fact she'd actually shut up for one damn minute. He just… knew. He smiled to himself, and laid down with her, pulling her warm body into his. They had no blankets, pillows, and were literally sleeping on wood planks, but they both woke up feeling more rested than they had in months.

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><p>Bellamy cleared his throat. Just like Clarke had the unspoken duty of talking during Assembly with the Representatives, Bellamy addressed their people most often during town meetings. This time was no different.<p>

"Havenites! We have something to tell you."

He glanced over at Clarke, and she gave him the smallest of encouraging smiles.

"It has been brought to our attention that you people are screwing like animals."

Clarke heard a gasp, before the roar of laughter went through the crowd, and knew it was Dr. Abby Griffin. She and the Representatives had given a script to Bellamy and Clarke and told them to use it as they believed it would elicit the best response from the general populace. Bellamy and Clarke had changed a few things then and there with them, and then once on their own, they had great fun throwing the carefully prepared paper into the fire and drafting one much more to their own style, and much more likely to stop rioting.

Once the peals had died down, Bellamy continued. "And while _I'm _all for it," more laughter, "our esteemed Representatives tell me that too many kids don't have dads." The laughter quickly guttered out.

"As all of you know, I myself was a kid without a dad. It's not right. Too many people are seeing the fact that they have multiple partners, or that their _partner_ has multiple partners, as an excuse to step away from the kid that is born because of those multiple partners." As low murmurings of dissent began in the crowd, Bellamy raised a hand. "Clarke and I tried not to promise you many things when you elected us, did we?"

He paused, and waited for the crowd to agree with him. Clarke marveled at his natural ability to keep a crowd engaged, listening to his every word, and agreeing with him all at the same time.

"But one of the promises we did make, one of the things you all know we are incredibly passionate about is this: We will never force you to love only one person. _That _is a promise we _will_ keep."

He paused again, and looked at as many faces as he could find, and finally turned to look at Clarke, again seeking her support. This time she reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. When he turned back to his people, her hand was still in his, firm and comforting.

"That is the reason we will _not_ be implementing any fidelity or childbirth laws. However, we will be bringing about an incentive system. For every two months that you've only had one sexual partner, or none, you shall receive 80 circuits. This will be available to everyone from the age of fourteen and older!" Bellamy's voice rose as the crowd suddenly burst into whispers.

"And just in case any of you tossers think you can pull one over on us, think again! We will be checking your stories against everyone else's and let's be honest, guys, none of you are very discrete." A bit of a chuckle went through the crowd. Men elbowed their friends and women flushed crimson.

"If you are found to be lying to us, even if it is after you have received the money, you will not be permitted to participate for 1 year, that's 12 months, from the time you were found to be lying. Think about it, you guys, that's 480 circuits you'd be giving up a year, and for what?"

Another, louder, round of whispers went through the crowd. And then a voice called, "But I don' wan' be with the same broad fo' the rest of me life!" Laughter rippled around Bellamy and he grinned.

"Who does, my friend? We don't need you to be with the same person for ever, just for two months. And there is no penalty for collecting one month and then not collecting the next. All we," he raised his and Clarke's joined hands "want from this is children who can say, "My parents acknowledge me."

He stopped and once again scanned the faces of the crowd, of his people. "Who doesn't know who your father was? Or your mother?"

After a moment, hands began raising until nearly a third of the people had a hand in the air.

"So many of you are the ones you need this program the most! You're off into a different someone's bed every night! Do you really want to be the one who followed in their own dead-beat parent's footsteps?"

A few people began to mutter louder, almost as if they had something to contradict their Senator.

"Listen, we're not forcing anyone to do anything. We're just saying if you're so inclined, try sticking it out with one person, just for two months, and see how it goes. And if you do, we'll give you 200 cees."

It was an obvious end to the announcement and people began filing away, off back to their jobs, their friends, their lives. Not everyone, mind. Many came up to find Clarke and Bellamy who stood on the makeshift stage, who answered questions, soothed concerns, and in general acted as Haven's leaders.

* * *

><p>It was nearly two hours later before they were able to lock themselves into the White House. They'd been accosted several times on their way back, by friends of theirs, Octavia and Lincoln, even Clark's mother. That was the worst.<p>

When they finally got into their small common room, Clarke stood by the roaring fire pit, barely able to keep herself from shaking. She never coped well around her mother anymore, not since what Clarke thought of as her last straw, the execution of a fifteen year old boy for leaving his tent after curfew.

After the battle with Mount Weather, the colonists decided they needed to get away, and did so. They moved nearly 50 miles to the East, landing in a patch of land that they believed unclaimed, and rather close to the ocean. Clarke and Bellamy had agreed to defer to Dr. Griffin, the new Chancellor, Counsellor Kane and ex-Chancellor Jaha. They soon realized, though, that they were being used as hand-holders for their people, always being told to reassure the general populace that things really were going to get better. They didn't, and it turned into one of the most horrific years of Clarke's experience. Clarke didn't realize how awful everything really was until the morning she woke to find young Pepper, who'd just celebrated his fifteenth birthday, chained to one of the walls of the camp, being read his crime. And then, under orders of her mother, the woman who had given birth to her, sang to her, rocked her to sleep, three guards fired a clip each of bullets into the young man's chest.

That wasn't the turning point for just Clarke, but for all of the citizens of the not yet named town. Mutiny ensued and it took all of Bellamy and Clarke's reassurances, pleadings and downright lies to save Dr. Griffin and the rest of her Arcadian cronies from the same fate.

Clarke had truly never forgiven her mother for what she did to her father, and she would never forgive her for how power-crazy she became that she began murdering young children. So now when they talked, they fought.

This fight had started out the same as all the others:

"Clarke, why don't you _listen_ to me?"

"I listen, Dr. Griffin, I just don't live and breathe your every word. Not anymore. And I would appreciate if you would not address me so informally." Every time Clarke asked Abby to call her Senator Griffin, or Madam Senator, she knew it pushed Abby's buttons, but she did it anyway. It was like an addiction, how she couldn't help but piss off her mother.

"But this time, _Madam Senator_, there was a _reason_ we had prepared the statement for Bellamy! We needed this announcement to go off without –"

"No, Mother. You listen to me! I'm sick and _tired_ of you treating our people like idiots, like they need to be controlled and blackmailed and coerced into doing what is clearly best for them!"

Clarke glanced around, hoping for moral support from her Co-Senator, but he was off nearly twenty feet away, flirting with one of the _many_ women that followed around in hopes of catching his eye. Normally, she'd roll her eyes in disgust (while secretly cheering him on) but now all she could feel was the drop of her stomach as she knew he'd be no help here.

When she turned back to her mother, and saw her draw in a deep breath and begin systematically, and extremely condescendingly, tearing Clarke apart for every small thing she or Bellamy and even just random people within their town had done that wasn't up to Dr. Griffin's standards, Clarke knew this was going to end horribly. She could feel the hopeless rage begin to build up in her chest, something that was normally quelled by a firm hand on the shoulder or elbow from Bellamy, or a quickly fabricated emergency from Jasper or Octavia. That wasn't going to happen this time.

It was all too much, the pressure to make the right decisions, the expectations to be the perfect leader, the need to be strong all the time because no one else could. And her mother, the _one_ person that should support and love Clarke no matter what, who should think she walked on gold-plated rose petals, and everything she said and did was God's fucking word. Instead, the woman was reminding Clarke of every failure she'd had in the last four years, and in great detail, telling her daughter why she wasn't right, about anything. And so her daughter snapped.

"Get the fuck out of my face!" She shoved the older woman back. "I don't care what you think. You've been proved wrong time and time again and here you still are, unable to accept that not everything you think is the best option! You are nothing more than a murderer." Clarke breathed deep. "Actually you're worse. You make guards do your dirty work, and just speak the words that condemn fifteen year olds and _your_ _own husband_ to die. GET OUT OF MY FUCKING LIFE!"

Abby's face pinched in rage. "How long are you going to hold that against me, Clarke? It's been six years since your father died! You're just like him, entirely too trusting, convinced everyone needs to know everything that's going on when that kind of knowledge will only hurt people!"

Clarke took a step toward Dr. Griffin. "Why do you think that's an insult, _mother_? At least I'm not like you." She spat the last word, as if to expel venom from her mouth.

The shouting had drawn the attention of what few people happened to be around. Clarke internally smacked herself. _This_ is why it was so important she didn't lose her cool around Abby. Bellamy was seen as the hothead, and the rebel, and often gained brownie points for going head to head with some of the older members of their community. Clarke, however, was the calm one, the peacemaker, and she was needed to liaise between the more traditional Representatives and their (albeit small) group of followers and the rest of her people.

People knew Clarke and her mother didn't get along. Everyone knew that, but Clarke didn't like it to be fresh in people's knowledge, and she didn't want whispers to start about dissent and indecision and all the rest. Things that would surely come of this most recent row.

Bellamy was at her arm in an instant, having ditched the girl with a slight nod of the head, turning Clarke towards their house. He'd said something to Dr. Griffin, and a distant part of her hoped it was better than "Fuck off." Just as they were closing the door, she heard Abby call, "I'll always be your mother, Clarke. Remember that!"

Bellamy led Clarke into the small common room, and went about preparing some of O's tea. As an afterthought he went back outside and flipped the sign that said, "Welcome to the White House", to the side that said, "Emergencies Only!"

It was really a genius idea, Raven's actually. People would (and still did) come to Bellamy and Clarke for every minor or major problem. A couple are having a domestic, their neighbor asks Clarke to stop it. Someone's trinket has gone missing and their ask Bellamy to put out the word. They were glad to help, almost always, but these people came to them no matter the situation, at all times. So for one of their birthday's Raven gave them a sign that could be flipped around at need, and when they just needed rest, or space, or just wanted one meal without someone asking for something or another they flipped the sign.

And if anyone disturbed them while the sign was up for anything other than, "imminent war, the Black Plague, or a god-damn tsunami", as Bellamy had exclaimed the first time someone had ignored Raven's gift, he would make sure they felt his wrath.

* * *

><p>Clarke was shaking, he saw, when he got back inside. Not because she was cold or crying, he believed. Just incredibly unhinged at how the dispute with her mother had gone.<p>

He knew Clarke as well as he knew anyone, at times he believed he knew Clarke better than he knew his little sister. Octavia had been around for most of his memory, but he and Clarke had gone through hell and lived to tell the tale. And they'd done it together. That changes how people interact, how they react to one another.

So he did what he knew she needed.

"Princess, come get your damn food, it's been here for at least an hour and is probably ice cold."

She didn't say anything. _Shit_, he thought, _fucking Abby Griffin had gotten to her more than I realized. _

"I don't have time for you to go all deep space on me, missus." He snapped.

She raised her head and glared at him. "I know exactly what you're trying to do, Bellamy Blake, and I won't fall for it."

He quizzically raised one eyebrow, "Oh really, and what is that, pray tell?"

She huffed and dropped into her chair. "You're trying to wind me up so you can say something so ridiculous I can't help but laugh, and then you'll get fake mad at me for laughing and then I'll say, "Shut up, Bell" and then you'll get fake hurt and then I'll feel bad and come over to say I'm sorry, and then you'll grab me and tickle me until I can't breathe and then when you let me up I'll have forgotten all about my stupid fucking bitch of a mother and you'll go off to bed all satisfied and smug." She continued to glare at him.

He smiled. Oh, it was good to be known so well. "Well… in that case."

Clarke's eyes darted to his in horror. "Oh no. No no no no no. Don't you even _think_ about it, Blake! Don't you even – " Bellamy was at her side in a split second and had her lifted up over his shoulder before she'd said "Blake". He ran whooping out of the house, all the while with her shrieking, slapping his back and calling him all kinds of names. People looked up, in interest rather than alarm, smiling or laughed knowingly, and continued on their way.

"I swear to God, Bellamy, if you jump I will make you eat pickled beetroot for an entire week! I will put two headed snakes in your bed in the middle of the night! Don't Bell! Bellameeeeeeee!" And with a practiced move, Bellamy switched Clarke so that he had one arm under her knees and one supporting her back, and as she swung her arms around his neck in terror he took a running jump off the rocks into the swimming hole.

Clarke came up spluttering and reaching for Bellamy. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" she screeched in a high-pitched voice.

Bellamy was three feet away, treading water, and roaring with laughter.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Alright guys! I hope you liked it. I hope you get a sense of Abby and Clarke's relationship at this point, and I hope it's not too difficult to believe that Abby went a bit nuts with power, and hasn't entirely forgiven her daughter for taking it away from her. Also, I know both this chapter and the last had very sugary sweet moments between Bellamy and Clarke, and I know those tend to be a bit OOC. This won't always be the way, but I believe in starting on a high note!**

As to the "footnotes" I promised you:

**Concerning circuits (also called cees in Havenite slang)****: Circuits are what they sound like. Little pieces of computers, radios, any electronics really. Clark and Bellamy needed something that was all the useful, wouldn't be expensive to collect or circulate. I figured they'd have a lot of broken crap lying around and could take those apart and use little pieces of electronics from them as their currency. **

**Furthermore, I am not an economist, nor a human behavior specialist. I am aware that some of the things I brought up about how well people were taking to circuits and what not are not necessarily correct or even feasible. **

**I do know that Bellamy and Clarke couldn't just give people circuits. Not only would they run out of circuits eventually, but that is the **_**definition **_**of inflation, and all of a sudden a little flower would cost people 2 million circuits (that's an exaggeration, but only kinda. Look up what happened to Germany's money after World War 1. People were burning notes because it was cheaper than buying firewood. Seriously. wiki/Hyperinflation_in_the_Weimar_Republic) So, I decided there would be some kind of tax system. I didn't want to try and put it into the story for fear of bringing the flow of the story to a screeching, overly detailing halt. So I'm putting it here. Just know that there is a finite amount of circuits in the system, and that through some kind of tax system, the government is getting some of it back, which will then be given back to the people in the form of relationship incentive money. **

**Thanks for reading guys! And I hope to have a new chapter to you soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello my wonderful readers! The third chapter in a week. This must be a record. I actually had planned to go further into the main plot in this chapter but details got away from me and here I am! Either way, I think it's a good chapter! **

**Once again, I want to thank my incredible reviewers. Truly reviews help me so much to continue with my writing, and give me so much confidence to keep going. I thank each and every one of you:**

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel****: It's great to see you continue on with my story! It's good to know someone was able to understand my little "footnotes" and I hope they helped you with your enjoyment, or at least, your understanding of my tale. It's also great to know that someone is understanding the kind of imagery I'm trying to convey to my audience. **

**albaseo****: It's lovely to know that new readers are enjoying it as well! Thanks for you kind encouragement. **

**14mortalInstruments****: Thanks so much! It's wonderful to hear that you enjoy my work, especially as a veteran fanfiction reader myself, I know it is often difficult to sift through so much just to find the one that you really enjoy. **

**lola****: You are back again, as well (or at least I believe it is the same lola)! I am also the same. A story that just isn't logical just drives me nuts. I hope there isn't **_**too**_** much detail, something that is honestly just one of my biggest weakness, I'm a terrible perfectionist. I think "high quality fanfiction" is the nicest thing someone's ever said to me. 3 **

**Rose1414****: Thanks so much for your encouragement! **

**Kalarella****: I'm glad you're enjoying the story! I really do think that the power of being "Chancellor" would go to her head, but I am hoping to give Abby some redeeming qualities at some point. But I guess we'll have to see how the story goes! **

**And without further ado, enjoy Chapter 3, everyone! **

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><p>Catastrophe Theory<p>

Chapter 3

**1 week after the first Commitment Incentive **

Bellamy and Clarke were exhausted.

In the three months since they'd announced their incentive they'd received criticism from every angle. The Representatives were not happy that they were allowing people to change partners from period to period, the liberals were not happy that they'd brought the scheme in at all, and the conservatives were not happy that it was just a suggestion and not a requirement. No one seemed to be happy, and everyone wanted to make sure their Senators knew it.

The two young leaders found themselves repeating the same phrases over and over to the point where they joked about handing out sheets of precious paper with the necessary information. "No, the program is not necessary. No, being married to a person does not automatically give you the right to the Incentive. No, you cannot collect for your underage child. Yes, we like sex too."

Finally, when the last day of December was upon them, Bellamy and Clarke woke early, and set up two desks outside the White House. Bellamy would take the men and Clarke the women, and over the next week they would go over all the names given on the slates and determine who had the right to the incentive. They'd also decided that because this was the first time, people who had lied would be given a free pass, and allowed to reapply at the end of February, rather than in one year's time.

They were sitting outside their house for nearly three hours before the first couple arrived to put down their names. Bellamy scowled when he saw it was his heavily pregnant sister and her husband.

"Hello, brother dear, Clarke. It's a nice morning isn't it?"

Clarke murmured, "You and your morning can fuck right off." Bellamy snorted and Octavia held two hands up to massive belly, as if to cover its ears, and placed a mock horrified look on her face.

"Why Clarke! Shame on you! You know better than to be cursing in front of the baby!" Clarke's opened her mouth to retort something equally foul as her first comment, but was cut off by Lincoln.

"We're here to collect our 80 circuits."

Octavia clapped her hands. "Oh yes! We're going to have Jasper and his crew build a room for us so that the baby waking up won't bother the rest of our cabin mates."

Clarke couldn't keep the smile off her face, despite of her black mood. "That sounds great, O. I can't imagine anyone else will have nearly as good of an idea how to use their Incentives!"

Bellamy grumbled, "If anyone else actually comes to _collect_ their Incentives."

Clarke reached over to squeeze his hand. Since Octavia had first found out she was pregnant, just being around her was bound to make a person happy. This time was no different. "Don't worry, Bell, we'll get people. It's not even lunchtime!"

O agreed vehemently, and after they'd signed their names and given the name of their sexual partner, as everyone must, Lincoln and Octavia left, with Lincoln doing his best to convince his young wife to rest. She was smiling and laughing and was fazed a bit by his concern.

Clarke sighed.

"What's gotten into you, Princess? Wishing you'd gotten to the Grounder first?" He was shocked at his tone. He'd meant it to come out teasing but it had a much harsher bite than he'd intended.

She looked over at him in surprise. "Ew. Of course not. Yuck!" Clarke's nose wrinkle in disgust thinking about it. It wasn't that Lincoln wasn't attractive. You'd have to be a complete mutation to think he wasn't attractive. He was just… Lincoln. Not at all Clarke's type, and more of a brother than anything else. And she had always seen his as Octavia's. He'd always just been the Lincoln part of Octavia and Lincoln.

She looked back at the happy couple. "No… I just hope that I can find someone that is that… I dunno… perfect for me. And, well…" Clarke couldn't hold back the blush. "I want to be pregnant." She couldn't keep the longing out of her voice.

It was rare that Clarke was able to think about the things she wanted for herself. She thought about what she wanted for Haven, what she wanted for the children of their community, what she wanted for the future of her people. She even thought about what she wanted for her friends, and for Bellamy. But only on the nights she went to sleep early (those were as rare as snow in July), and the quiet moments when she was bathing, was she able to think about what _she_ wanted.

It boiled down to a family, children, and a partner that could understand _her_ and not criticize her for all the time she spent working for her people. Every man she'd become attracted to since… well, since _him_, had eventually criticized her for working too much, or accused her of spending more time with her co-leader than with them. Eventually, she gave up on finding someone for the long term, and when she needed to, she slipped into someone willing's bedroll and never brought it up again.

Settling down was a far off dream, and something she knew would never happen until she and Bellamy had been voted out of the Senator's position. But, still, her heart ached when she saw how fucking _happy_ Octavia was, with all the things Clarke couldn't have.

The silence dragged on between them as Clarke kicked herself for revealing something so inappropriate, and Bellamy struggled with her confession. _She wants kids? Why did she never say anything?_

It was a shock to him, everything from the desperate pain in her voice, making it obvious this wasn't the first time she'd thought about it, to the fact that she wanted children. He knew Clarke had wanted… someone, and after the debacle with… God, even thinking about him made Bellamy boil with rage. He shook his head and banished the thought. He knew Clarke wanted someone, but up until now, no one had been able to fill that void for her. He assumed that she'd decided to wait, or whatever chicks decide. If he was honest, all of these thoughts took a backseat to the rest of his life.

Only now, they'd been dragged forward, and he couldn't help but think, _Does she mean now? Does she have a secret boyfriend that she wants to… marry?_

That realization more than any of the others startled him, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Clarke was still internally cursing herself, and closed her eyes in horrified humiliation when the man next to her cleared his throat. "Clarke…"

They both thanked God, science, the freaking concept of fate when they were interrupted by a few people coming to sign up for the Incentive.

For the rest of the day, they kept conversation light, sticking to things that concerned their people, problems within one of the sectors, anything other than children and boyfriends and their individual futures. This should have been easy (Bellamy and Clarke had lots of things to discuss) but they spent their entire day signing people up for a program designed to encourage commitment, which revolved around the eventuality of pregnancy. So, it was not.

At the end of the day, only 15 men had listed themselves on Bellamy's slate, and 32 women on Clarke's. The two Senator's had grumbled their disappointment, their desire for bed, and had both scrambled into their respective bedrooms as quickly as was polite without their dinner. Another awkward moment spent in each other's company _not_ discussing the only thing on their minds would surely kill them.

The spent the next week doing their best to be out of each other's way. Clarke rose early and went to collect the monthly reports what was considered "her" sectors, Medical, Cookery, Clothworks, and Communications. Bellamy in turn, waited in his room until she was gone and then did the same with "his" sectors, Scouting/Hunting, Military, Research, and Building.

By the end of the week, they sufficiently annoyed the heads of each sector enough to be banned from coming back for more "reports" until the beginning of next month and knew they'd avoided each other long enough. Besides, Clarke was missing Bellamy's quick wit. Someone in Cookery had tripped and dropped six pots, which had then sparked other things being dropped and the entire place began shouting and cursing. Clarke had grinned and looked around for Bellamy, but had been disappointed.

Bellamy had experienced similar regrets at his avoidance of his co-leader when, after a long day of pestering Jasper to let him help build something, all he'd wanted was one of Clarke's excellent massages and some stern talking to. He liked it when they bickered and he missed it.

To be strictly truthful, staying out of each other's way was stressful and tiring. It involved asking too many questions of the other's whereabouts and too much tiptoeing around their house. It was awful.

Bellamy and Clarke were exhausted.

* * *

><p>On the last day of the week, Clarke didn't get up early, and Bellamy didn't wait for her to leave. He got up and put on the kettle and she came out when she smelled him cooking some meat over their small fire pit.<p>

They didn't say anything really, and when they did, they didn't discuss what had been on their minds for the past week. Instead Clarke said, "We need to go over everyone's statements and we need to pass out people's incentives. Really we should've done it early, but… well, you know."

Bellamy cleared his throat, "Yeah, I'll get the slates now."

They cross-checked everyone's names, and only found one anomaly. Ginger Wu had claimed she'd only slept with Stephan Watson. But both Stephan and James McKinley had claimed they'd only slept with Ginger. Bellamy went off to have a discussion with the two men, and Clarke searched out Ginger in Cookery.

A few hours later, it had been determined that James had thought that the period in question had started the same day it had been announced, instead 30 days after. As it had been a misunderstanding, and James swore than since November 1st he'd not had sex with anyone, all three had been told to collect their 80 circuits at their convenience at the White House (and to please pass around the message that anyone else who signed up to come collect within the week).

"Clarke, we should go over the reports we collected from the sectors. I don't know about you, but Lincoln was asking for more recruits and more space and, Jesus, more everything."

Clarke stretched and yawned, and collected her and Bellamy's plates. It was ridiculous how easy it was to fall back into their old comfortable patterns. They'd spent an entire week literally running in the opposite directions of each other, and all it took was one day of forced contact and a silly love triangle to get them back to how they used to be.

"Yeah, alright, Marie, you know in the Cookery, was saying she wants to try and plant a garden. Honestly, she's been saying it for months but I kept deflecting her because I have no idea where we'd even be able to put it, or guard it from the animals, and…"

They carried on, trading ideas and stories and laughing at some of the things they'd been told over the week. Bellamy was in the middle of a hilarious story involving the head of research, a four-winged duck, and a bowl of Marie's beetroot soup (the Havenites ate so much beetroot, Clarke was inclined to give Marie her garden if for no other reason than to have more access to other vegetables), when Miller and Representative Kane opened the door to their small common room.

Clarke glanced at the candle clock Clothworks had given her as an experiment that was actually quite useful. "Miller, Kane, it's nearly two in the morning! What are you doing here?"

Nathan Miller glanced between the two Senators. "I'm sorry, Mr. Senator, Madam Senator for bothering you at such a late hour. It's just, one of our scouts has just returned for a long scouting mission that we organized a few weeks ago, if you remember. We sent out four scouts each to explore a quadrant of the land out to fifty miles? Well, everyone except Julian had returned with not much to say. A few strange plants had been gathered and reports of herd of animals out to the northwest, and –"

"Get to the point, Miller." Bellamy said.

"Right, sorry, Be- uh, Mr. Senator, sir. Julian just got back there, said he'd been running for two days. It took ages to get it out of him –"

"Miller…" Bellamy growled.

"Sorry, um, he found a clan. A clan of Grounders, sir. Probably three days travel to the south."

Needless to say, Clarke and Bellamy would, once again, not be getting any sleep that night.

* * *

><p>The information on the new Grounder clan was very limited. All their scout could really tell them was that it looked like a pretty new settlement, no permanent structures of any kind, and that he'd seen only one woman, which was assumed to be the Chieftain. Most Grounder clans, the Havenites had found, were led by either one woman or a woman and a council of men.<p>

They were speaking an unfamiliar language. The scout insisted it was different than the common language spoken by the other grounder clans they'd encountered, but Lincoln assured them that he, or any of the other handful of "grounders" that lived within Haven would be able to understand them. Lincoln was adamant that he had never come across a clan that spoke such a drastically different dialect of their language that he wasn't able to understand, and in his youth he had travelled in a 300 mile radius around his home to learn the land, neighboring clan's medicines and of other ailments that plagued the people of Earth. He also said it was likely that at least one would speak English.

Clark and Bellamy warned everyone to keep the news to themselves until they could determine the new clan's intentions and desires.

That didn't happen, and to be quite frank, they weren't sure why they'd bothered. Secrets in this town spread quicker than that Red Berry disease had two years previously.

* * *

><p>They'd returned to the White House when the sun was high in sky. They were making their way to bed when the first knock came on the door. It was quickly followed by everyone else in the damn village.<p>

The town's two Senators did their best to soothe everyone's fears but it came clear quite quickly that the leaders had not yet agreed on the course of action that would be taken in regard to the new Grounder clan.

"What do you mean, 'mobilize Military'? You seriously want to just attack them?! They've done nothing wrong!"

"Dammit, Princess, you never fucking _listen_ to me! I didn't say we were going to storm down their camp! I just said we'll be prepared for when, I mean _if_¸ they attack."

"You said, 'when'!" She jabbed him in the chest. "You actually think they're going to attack! They don't even know we're here!"

"How do you know they don't know, Clarke? They could've followed Julian, Lincoln himself said our scouts are piss-poor in stealth!"

"Why can't you ever just give them the benefit of the fucking doubt?! For fuck's sake, Bellamy, you're always so god-damn trigger happy!"

They were in each other's faces at this point. Most of the village were watching as yet another knock-down drag-out battle went on between their two leaders. It was almost nice, their habitual arguments, normal – like.

"And why must you insist on being unprepared, Clarke? Having extra men on the walls, and more habitual scouting parties, is not going kill anyone!"

She scoffed, "Yeah unless one of your scouts is a little too quick to shoot. You remember what happened to Anya!"

Bellamy blinked. He had heard, and had despaired – not as much as Clarke had, but at the time he'd been pissed that their chance of an alliance with Anya and Lincoln's people had been so needless jeopardized. "Clarke, you know that wouldn't have happened on my watch. It won't happen this time."

"You can't promise that, Bell!"

"I damn well can! Just because Abby Griffin shoots first, asks questions later doesn't fucking mean I do!"

They were heaving with anger now, and had all but forgotten about their audience.

"You know what, _Bellamy_, do whatever you fucking want. It's not like you ever actually _care_ about me!"

That comment stabbed Bellamy right in the chest, and then just because he's a glutton for punishment, he twisted the knife. "You're right, Princess. I couldn't give a shit about you, so why don't you run off and play with your little cooks and your seamstresses, and then we'll see who's better at taking care of this god-damn village!" He'd worked himself up into such a state, his voice was cracking with the force of his shouting.

Just the barest hint of hurt flickered in her eyes before it was clouded by rage. "I will, you prick. And the next time you want a new cloak, why don't you take the material to your stupid Research guys, and we'll see how fucking great they are at stitching!" She whirled, and stalked into their house and slammed the door to her room – well, she pushed it closed as fiercely as the crudely attached piece of wood would allow.

Bellamy huffed, and shot a heated glower at the crowd before pacing away to shout at poor Julian for not scouting well enough. And then, he decided, he would take his cloak to the science and engineering room, and he'd teach Wick and his guys how to use a fucking needle and thread, just to prove that stubborn little witch wrong!

* * *

><p>The next day Bellamy was feeling pretty terrible about their argument. He'd said things he hadn't meant, and hadn't actually felt in years. He was pretty sure she had too, but they'd never really sat down and discussed their… relationship.<p>

Bellamy figured they'd both cooled down enough to have a chat, so he knocked on her door.

"Clarke?" Nothing.

"Hey Clarke?" Still nothing.

"I know you're probably still mad, but I was hoping we could talk." She didn't say anything.

"Well, when you're ready to talk, come find me. I just want to say, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I really do… care about you. And about your opinions. You're important. To the village. So. I'll see you later, ok?"

Bellamy left, telling himself she needed time and space.

* * *

><p>She hadn't come to find him anytime during the day, and she hadn't touched her dinner when he got home. He expected that she was still out, and sat up waiting until nearly one in the morning for her. Finally, he rationalized that she must have eaten with Jasper, or Raven, or even Octavia and Lincoln and had been so tired she hadn't come home. That was fine, he'd definitely see her the next day.<p>

* * *

><p>At the end of the next day, she had not returned, and Bellamy was getting worried. The next morning he checked her room, and found it neat, her bed rolled up, and her clothes tucked away nicely in her chest. Not that he really thought Clarke would leave him or her people, but just in case, he'd wanted to make sure she hadn't taken any of her belongings.<p>

He first checked with all of the cabins that housed friends of theirs, but no one had seen her since their argument, almost three days beforehand. When he'd gotten to Octavia's, the first licks of panic were starting to cloud his judgment.

He slammed open the door, and ignoring O's screeches and shouts of indignation, he stalked around the cabin's common room, irrationally looking behind boxes and under the table.

"Have you seen her? O, have you seen Clarke?!"

"Bell, Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you? What are talking about?"

"I can't find Clarke, and no one's seen her since that Grounder camp was discovered."

Octavia's hands went to her mouth. "Oh. Oh my God. Oh my God. You think…"

"I CAN'T THINK AT ALL RIGHT NOW, OCTAVIA!"

Their shouting drew Lincoln, who'd been chopping logs for their extension on to their cabin. "Why are we shouting?"

The siblings both turned to Lincoln, Octavia's lips trembling and her eyes spilling tears. Bellamy was crazed, defeated by fear for his co-Senator, for his Clarke.

"She's gone. She's – oh my God – they've taken her. She's gone."

Bellamy sank to his knees and did something he'd never do in front of anyone but Octavia, and Clarke. He wept.

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><p><strong>AN: And there it is! I hope you all enjoyed it and please review to let me know what you think, even if you hated it! **

* * *

><p><strong>Footnotes:<strong>

**Concerning "sectors"****: I figured in a village a large as theirs, to make sure everything got done, people would specialize. Therefore, I came up with 8 'sectors', 4 of which Bellamy would supervise and 4 of which Clarke would. This goes back to my Representatives idea. Except I believe I said there were 7 Representatives. I kindly ask you, my understanding readers, to pretend there were originally 8 Representatives. The idea here is each sector has someone to bring their represent their interests in discussions with the Senators. Representatives are not necessarily leaders of the sectors. Abby is the leader of Medical but for Scouting/Hunting, Miller is the leader and Kane is the Representative. **

**Just to go into detail about each of the Sectors:**

**Medical: This is everything to do with medicine and healing. Obviously. **

**Cookery: This is also an obvious one. They are responsible for the gathering of (minus hunting), the storage of, the preparation of, and the distribution of all food within Haven. Most people are required to go to the food hall for the collection of their meals, but Marie has taken a liking to Bellamy and Clarke and often leave them bits and bobs as they often forget to come to the food hall during meal times, and it's much easier all around if they're just eat in the house. **

**Clothworks: I know, I know, this isn't a real word. I just like how it sounds, ok? This sector is in charge of maintaining clothing, tarps, blankets, really anything to do with sewing and needlework. Everyone in Haven is given four sets of basic clothing (two summer, two winter), two cloaks, two blankets and a pillow. These are all distributed by Clothworks. Repairs must be done as much as possible and any replacements must be approved by the head of Clothworks. **

**Communications: Not only is this group in charge of things like walky-talkys for the scouts and military, but also for keeping up coms with all their allied grounder clans. Most of Haven's former grounder population works in this sector as they can speak the Grounder language and have better relationships with the other clans. **

**Scouting/Hunting: Simple enough. **

**Military: Also, simple enough. Lincoln is the head of this group, and the super harsh blond guard woman from season 2 (whose name I CANNOT find) is the Representative. This sector is also in charge of guarding and lookouts. **

**Research: This is the one that I really wanted to explain. This is more of an engineering and technical area than it is a science lab, but Research is a better word. Basically, this is where the come up with the random new things a civilization needs. A lot of the random stuff that needs getting done is put on this sector's shoulders. **

**Building: Also, pretty straight forward. As you may have gleamed, Jasper is the head of Building. This sector is in charge of all building projects, and acquiring the materials to do so. **

**Concerning circuits (part 2)****: I just wanted to give you guys a TEENIE TINY clarification on circuits and their use. Don't worry it won't be like the footnote on sectors! Basically, I just want to say that any earning of circuits is done outside of work hours. If people work 5 days a week, no matter what sector, then they have 2 days off a week. They are free to spend their time doing whatever they like. **

**Some of the seamstresses from Clothworks have begun knitting scarves and embroidering pictures onto articles of clothing, for example, to be sold for circuits. And Jasper and his building team have been building extensions and making windows and whatnot in their extra time for circuits and then splitting the pay as is deemed appropriate by voting (all splitting of circuits for jobs completed by two or more persons must be voted on by all members of the party. If a fair split cannot be decided, the dispute can be brought to the head of sector, or to Bellamy and Clarke). **

**I hope that helps clear up some confusion! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Edit: **

**One of my lovely reviewers brought to my attention that doesn't allow things to be copied from the website, so my advice of taking the foreign language to Google Translate is not an option! What I will do however, is, if you write a review or PM me saying you'd like to know, I will PM you back with the sentences all written out for you so you can take them to Google Translate, if you're not bothered writing out specific words in GT. **

**Sorry about that!**

**A/N: Hello readers! What did everyone think of 2x06? **

***SPOILERS***

**I wasn't too happy, I must confess, with everyone's acceptance of what Finn did. I truly hope there are repercussions at some point. He deserves no less. **

***END OF SPOILERS***

**I am so happy to be bringing you another chapter of Catastrophe Theory! This is, in my opinion, not the best chapter, and to be honest, it doesn't have quite a lot of the plot in it. It's pretty much a filler chapter, a way to keep the plot going without creating some odd loopholes or situations. **

**There is some nice fluff, I think, and some very sweet moments. **

**Now, the language that I used for the Grounders is Esperanto. You are more than welcome to take my sentences to Google Translate and translate them to English (that's what I did the other way around) or if you are fortunate enough to understand the "universal language", then hurrah for you (I'm well jealous), you can understand the story from the get-go! Because I used Google Translate, I imagine some of the grammar, and perhaps the vocabulary is a bit off. I apologize. **

**Thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers! You are my inspiration to continue writing. Unfortunately as there are so many of you now, I won't be able to individually respond, but please feel free to PM me if you have any questions, or want to make a comment you don't feel comfortable leaving in the reviews. **

**Thank you to: emilyzombies, xxqueenofbookjunglexx, Zombiedoughnut, Dark-Supernatural-Angel, Guest 1, lola, tazzynazzy, Emmmmmaniac, Ettani, albaseo, and Guest 2. **

**Seriously, you guys are the best. Everyone had such nice things to say and I appreciate it so much! **

**Now. Enjoy Chapter 4 of Catastrophe Theory! **

* * *

><p>Catastrophe Theory<p>

Chapter 4

**4 days after Bellamy and Clarke's row**

Clarke awoke in an unfamiliar bed.

She started in fright, and nearly leapt out before she relaxed with memory. She was in the grounder camp to the south, had arrived just before sundown the night before. She'd wrestled with herself whether or not she wanted to approach the Grounders or if she wanted to just observe, and learn as much as she could. As much as she had protested, Bellamy had had a point, and waltzing into an unknown camp and declaring a truce could possibly be the stupidest thing ever.

The choice was taken out of her hands, though, when a large man on a horse had snatched her up, not brutally, actually everything involving her treatment had been quite gentle. She'd been deposited in front of whom she assumed was the Chieftain.

"_Kiu vi estas_?" The regal woman had demanded.

"I-I-I beg your pardon?" Clarke had done her best to look like the leader of _her_ tribe, but that had obviously fallen flat with her sputtering and struggle to understand what _exactly_ was happening.

"_Ĉi tiu estas idiota." _The woman turned to the man that had brought Clarke to her.

"_Ne, mia reĝino, ŝi estas de la Ĉielo!" _The man seemed to disagree with the woman. Clarke watched this exchange, catching very little. She had studied the ancient language of Latin when she'd started her medical studies, but that was years (felt like centuries) ago. She could tell there was some similarity in their words to those in her textbooks, but she had no idea what they were saying.

"_Kie vi trovis ŝin, Jozefo?_"

Clarke was starting to wonder if this had truly been a bad idea. She'd just been so angry! She had just wanted to prove to Bellamy, and all those idiots that had nodded along with him, that people weren't inherently evil! That peace could be brokered without first killing a few members of each side.

"_Mi sekvis ilian spiono. Tiam mi sekvis sxin. Ŝi rigardis nin, sur la norda kresto." _

Clarke decided now was as good as time as any to speak up. "Excuse me." Both heads turned to her as if they'd forgotten she was there. "Er-Sorry. English. Anyone, speak, English?" Clarke started comically waving her hands, trying to convey her thoughts.

A young man, maybe sixteen years of age spoke up.

"_Mia reĝino, mi povas paroli iuj de la Ĉielo virina lingvo. Ĉu mi rajtas?_" The woman, the queen, just raised her head.

"Yes, ladee, I Engolich!"

Clarke felt the tension go out of her. Someone spoke English!

"Oh, oh, that's great. That's wonderful. Can you tell your chieftain I mean no harm?"

"I sorry, ladee, I no know. Less words?" The boy's face was confused, and distressed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm speak slower. Tell her," Clarke pointed to the woman in charge. "no fighting. Understand?"

"Fi-Fiting, ladee?"

The conversations continued slowly from there, and thought it was obviously the young man's English skills were incredibly poor, Clarke did her best not to give up. It was, Clarke guessed, three or four hours later before her hosts were satisfied with her intentions enough to offer her a bed for the night, and a meal. She'd crashed into the small tent, and onto the rolled up animal furs. Nothing had been so comfy in months.

Now that it was the next morning, Clarke decided to get down to business. She'd find the young man, Ludoviko, and she'd go and have as much as a conversation with her hostess as possible. She wanted to leave tonight, once she'd negotiated happily enough. She guessed her note she'd left for Bellamy in the large common room might appease him for a few days, but the longer she didn't come back, the more he'd convince himself something was wrong and he'd come barreling after her, guns blazing, trailing the entirety of their military force.

* * *

><p>At that moment, Bellamy was indeed tearing through the forest, followed by an army.<p>

He'd spent the rest of the day (after breaking down in front of his sister and, mortifyingly, her husband) asking all of the heads of the sectors to get as much detail as they could from everyone about when she was seen last. Finally one of the guards had approached Lincoln and recalled that he had let Clarke out to gather some herbs at around half past the hour of four in the morning the night after Bellamy and Clarke's blowup. He hadn't seen her return but his shift had ended at six in the morning and had assumed someone else let her in.

Octavia tried to reason that perhaps she had gone to try and negotiate with the Grounders, after all Lincoln had said someone would speak English. Raven had agreed with her on this front, but neither of them could explain _why_ she hadn't told someone that she was going to do this. Even if it was some random person (none of her friends, the Representatives or Bellamy would have let her go), she still would have let _someone _know where she was headed.

"She did. She told that guard kid that she was picking plants, and three days later, she's not fucking back!" Bellamy felt as if someone was holding his heart, just a little too tightly, just a little too roughly. His brain was fuzzy, and to hear what people said he had to concentrate on their words. His focus slipped far too often with the thought of Clarke tied up, and beaten and… he couldn't even think of it.

"We're going after her. I want everyone ready by dawn."

He went back to his, their, house, and tried to sleep. Three hours later, he found himself wrapped up in Clarke's blankets, taking in her scent. Once he fell into a fitful sleep, he dreamed of her.

He woke at the first noise of people beginning to prepare for an attack, and was pacing at the main gate within five minutes.

The only moment he would later be able to define was when Octavia, all two and a half of her, toddled up with a rifle and a pack.

"Not a snowball's chance in hell, O. Turn right the fuck around and sit tight."

"Bellamy! She's my friend too, my _best_ friend. If you think I'm going to just waddle around this fucking camp while I wait to hear if… if… she's alright, you're much more stupid than I always knew." Bellamy hesitated for a moment. A very pregnant, irrational Octavia was scary. Really, absolutely terrifying.

"You can't even walk around camp, you might have the baby any damn day, and Lincoln, and I, would be beyond distracted trying to protect you. What does he have to say about this little stunt?"

Octavia pouted. "He didn't even let me talk. He just said, 'No', and walked away."

Bellamy felt a laugh, _a laugh_, bubble up in his throat. Just then, Lincoln showed up, shot Octavia the darkest look, full of unsaid threats, and said, "Senator Blake, we are ready."

"Good. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Clarke wanted to tear her hair out and scream. The only thing that kept her from trying was she wasn't sure if the Grounders might take that to mean that she was hungry and could walk on her hands.<p>

They were incredibly dependent on body language, something that had taken poor Ludoviko far too long to explain. It had only dawned on her while trying to tell him that they lived 30 miles to the north, and had for many years, and everyone had jumped up and drawn weapons. Ludoviko had shouted in protest and going between his language and very broken English he managed to diffuse the situation.

He had scolded Clarke for insulting his people harshly and she must have had such a confused look on her face that he understood and took a half hour explaining that their hands were used extensively in their language. She had apparently rubbed the side of her chin while speaking before, which meant she had suggested the leader do something extremely unsavory with a bear.

Why a bear, Clarke couldn't understand.

"Please tell your queen that all we wish for is peace. I want to be friends with you." Clarke was trying to speak slowly for Ludoviko, but he just wasn't understanding. Furthermore, her natural instinct to include her words with gestures had to be suppressed to avoid another conflict like before.

"_Kion ŝi volas_?" The queen, whose name was apparently Venka, looked slightly impatient.

"_Bonvolu, mia reĝino, mi havas problemojn kompreni kelkajn vortojn."_ Ludoviko turned to Clarke after addressing Venka.

"I no know dees. Frend? Pees?"

Clarke tried to explain, in several different ways. At last out of frustration she brought her fingers together and held them out. "Friends. Peace."

This caused quite a stir, with members of the clan whispering, and the queen and the translator having a loud heated discussion. Clarke really hoped she hadn't just said something awful.

Then the queen's lieutenant, Jozefo, spoke. _"Petu ŝin, se ŝi donas al ni edzinojn!_"

Ludoviko raised pleading eyes to his queen, she looked back unwavering. He sighed and turned to Clarke. "You mean…" He held his hands up as Clarke had. "Togezer?" He pointed to Clarke, "Peeple and…" His finger moved to the queen. "joined?"

Clarke smiled with relief. "Yes! Yes, we will be friends!" Ludoviko smiled too, and translated to Venka.

Venka stood and walked to Clarke. She pulled Clarke up from the low chair she'd been in and embraced her. "_Diru al ŝi, ni estos fratinoj!_"

Ludoviko said, "Queen says, you be from same mozer!" Clarke laughed, and agreed to be swept up into an impromptu celebration. There was dancing, some questionable food that Clarke didn't want to think about, and liquor as strong as Monty's and far more flavorful.

It was late into the night before Clarke even remembered that she'd been meaning to leave for Haven that day. She dragged Ludoviko away from a relatively pretty Grounder girl, and told him to let her hosts she was leaving, but that she'd return with others from her camp.

Just before she left she asked him. "Ludoviko, what is the name of your tribe?"

He struggled, but finally said. "We Fajra people."

She thanked him, and despite the late hour and the fuzziness in her head from the three and a half cups of Fajran liquor, set out towards home.

* * *

><p>Bellamy called a halt to progression around midnight. As desperate as he was to find Clarke, he knew it was stupid to expect his soldiers to go through the night. The set up camp quickly and a few sentries were posted. Bellamy elected to stay up as well, unwilling to miss the chance of hearing or seeing something useful.<p>

They'd been travelling hard, and had travelled a distance that would've taken someone travelling more leisurely two, maybe even three, days. Julian said they were no more than 5 miles away from the camp. Bellamy planned for tomorrow to be the day they'd scope the place out, see if they could spot Clarke, and try and gauge their enemy's capabilities.

It was a practiced dance at this point. Lincoln, Miller and Bellamy had been scouting, assessing, and battling enemy camps for five years. Just because it'd been nearly two years since they'd actually fought anyone did not mean they were any less prepared, or skilled.

Miller came up behind him. "Bellamy," he said, dropping the title now no pesky Representatives were around. "What are we going to do if she's not there?"

"She's there."

"How can you be so sure?"

Bellamy turned to look at his long-time friend, and more trusted advisors. "Do you really think it's a coincidence that they day after one of your scouts comes back hollering about new Grounders, she just up and disappears after an early morning jaunt into the woods?"

Miller bristled at Bellamy's tone. "If you're implying Julian had anything –"

"Of course I am! He led them right _to_ us!" He hissed furiously.

"We both know Clarke shouldn't have been out there in the first place!" Miller shot back.

Bellamy stepped back, shocked. "You can't be blaming her, _Clarke_, for this?"

"It was foolish! She should've known better than to go outside when we had so little intel on these new Grounders!"

Bellamy just shook his head in awestruck disbelief. After everything Clarke had done for Miller, at Mount Weather, when he'd just about been hanged by the previous Chancellor, when he'd nearly gotten himself drawn and quartered for marrying some Grounder girl without obtaining Clan permission.

He was just about to retort when he heard one of the scouts signal, "One unknown person."

Bellamy and Miller raced to the scout, doing their best to stay silent.

"Where?" Bellamy barely breathed once he'd moved close enough to the sentry.

The sentry pointed, and a figure became apparent. He, or she, didn't seem to be trying to cover his tracks. In fact, he wasn't at all concerned with concealing his position, but instead was just walking in a straight line, careful to avoid holes and roots on the ground. He titled his head up to look at the stars, and Bellamy felt the intense pressure that had been slowly squeezing the life out of his heart, out of _him_, release.

He leapt up, and in just a few quick strides he'd reached her. She squeaked in surprise, and tried to struggle free but he just held her, stroking her hair and whispering over and over, "I've got you. You're safe." He couldn't remember feeling so relaxed, so happy. She wasn't dead, she was here, with him. She… was _biting _him!

He wrenched back, but kept hold of her shoulders. "What the hell, Clarke?!"

She'd been screeching, and doing her best to knock him away from her but froze at her name. And then blinked at him.

"Bellamy? What are you doing?"

He scoffed incredulously. "I'm saving you, you idiot!"

"Saving me?"

"Yeah, how the hell did you get away from them?"

Clarke starred at him, uncomprehending. "From who?"

Bellamy suppressed a scream. "The god-fucking-damn Grounders, you absolute imbecile!"

She starred at him.

"Have you been drinking or something?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but this was infuriating.

She blushed, "Well, yes, but I just wanted to get a start on going home, so I decided to leave tonight because I think if I stayed any later I wouldn't –"

Bellamy waved his hands in front of her. "What is God's name are you talking about?"

"I-I, the Grounders? They're called the Fajra Clan, by the way, and I was able to get them to convince to a peaceful relationship, and –"

Bellamy felt the pressure return, except in full force, and he couldn't contain it anymore. "Are you saying, are you saying that you-you came_ here_, by _yourself_, without _telling anyone_, to _make a peace pact_?" Clarke took a step back from him involuntarily. Bellamy's voice had gone quiet, low, and was vibrating with rage.

"No, Bell, I-I left you a note! Didn't-didn't you see the note?" Clarke couldn't keep the doubt out of her voice.

He exploded. "NO I DIDN'T SEE YOUR MOTHER-FUCKING NOTE! GOD _DAMMIT_, CLARKE! I THOUGHT YOU'D BEEN KIDNAPPED! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD, OR ABOUT TO BECOME SOME SLIMY GROUNDER'S BED SLAVE!"

Clarke felt her back straighten. "It's not my fault you jumped to conclusions! I left you a fucking note!"

"YOU CAN'T JUST RUN OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! NOTE OR NO NOTE, YOU CAN'T JUST DECIDE IT'S UP TO YOU TO MAKE FRIENDS WITH THE UNKNOWN GROUNDERS!"

"IT'S NOT LIKE YOU WERE GOING TO! YOU WERE GOING TO ATTACK THEM!"

Bellamy's blood was still boiling, but he knew better than anyone shouting with Clarke only made her that much more stubborn. "You know what Clarke? I actually wasn't going to, before you ran off. But then when I thought they'd grabbed you, I mobilized the entire fucking military and we raced down here trying to get to you before it's too late, and all the while you were drinking and dancing and God knows what else with a camp full of the very people we were coming down to kill."

He turned and stormed into their camp. Clarke followed, like the old-earthen terrier, at his heels, shouting and criticizing the entire way. "If you had just listened to me in the first place, then you wouldn't have had to 'race down here'!"

"Leave me alone, Clarke."

"You can't keep doing this, Bellamy! I'm a grown ass woman, and I can take care of my fucking self!"

"Leave me alone."

"How many times did I bail your ass out of trouble, huh? You don't see me holding that over your head do you?"

"_Clarke_."

"No, Blake! I'm so sick of how god-damned _controlling_ you are! I don't _need_ you to save me all the time! I don't _need_—"

He whirled and grabbed her arms. "STOP. JUST STOP."

She looked surprised, but Bellamy knew that was going to only be momentary. "Just because you don't need to be saved doesn't mean that I don't want to save you! I was so fucking _worried_! All I could think was that you'd been thrown into some Grounder pit and were slowly being eaten alive by God knows what. I couldn't get the pictures out of my head, of you dead, or missing limbs, or being r-raped." On impulse, he shook her as if to drive his point home.

"You know better, Clarke! You're no longer that idealistic girl fresh off the drop ship, thinking all of the world's fucking problems could be solved with a promise and a kiss! We've gone through too fucking much for you to start underestimating the world again! This is real shit, Clarke!"

She stared at him, eyes glistening, and he heaved, emotionally and physically exhausted from the last four days of stress and worry and fear.

Bellamy felt her arms go around his waist, and he couldn't help but gather the woman into his own arms. His anger didn't completely dissipate, but he felt it simmer away until it was just a small speck, something to be dealt with later. For now he was happy to just be grateful Clarke was safe.

Clarke was happy to just lay her head on Bellamy's chest. At a later time, she'd discuss what had happened at the Fajran camp with her co-Senator, and she was sure they'd have another screaming match about the rest of the events of the last four days. She'd have to deal with the camp of Havenite soldiers, and she'd have to talk to Lincoln and see if he'd ever heard of people like these. But for now, she was completely exhausted, pretty damn drunk, and extremely comfy.

So, for now, Clarke decided the best thing to do would be to go to sleep, and that is what she did.

* * *

><p><strong>There you have it! I hope you enjoyed it, and I apologize for its subpar quality and length. I do promise that the next chapter will be much better! <strong>

**I have a request for those of you that decide to translate the Fajran Grounders' words (or speak their language already). Please do not comment on their content within the reviews. If you would like to confirm with me if your translations are correct, please PM first! I would just like to keep the mystery of the story for everyone who prefers it that way. **

**It may be a little while before I'm able to update again. I know, up until now it's been pretty regular, but I am going into my last legs of my college degree and I'm also going through interviews for jobs, and I'll be flying home to America in about a week. I have quite a lot to do in very little time, so please do not despair if I don't have another chapter up until after the 13****th****. I haven't forgotten about you dear readers! **

**For anyone interesting in learning more about Esperanto: wiki/Esperanto**

**Have a wonderful couple weeks!**


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